Not Another Order of the Phoenix!
by SeverelySnaped1
Summary: A once off parody of cliche. Featuring reluctant snogging, girly screams, useless conferences, Mary-Sues, Sadistic Weasleys, Horny Malfoys, disturbing innuendo and an attempt of witty cynism. If you hate fifth year fics, this will move you (Far far away)


**Disclaimer and Stuff:**

I quote The Nanny, Pinky and the Brain, and Daria in this ficlet. Points to whoever picks out the quotes and saves me the trouble. Also, I have never actually read any HP and the OotP's before, and neither have I read HP and the Lost Dragon, so I'm sorry if I bag it incessantly and it ends up being your fic. S'all for fun :D. 

In this ficlet I shoot down all cliché and bad fanfics. I'm sorry. MWAH HAR HAR HAR. Actually, the point I'm trying to get across is that if you're a brilliant writer, you can get away with anything. So only if you're a disturbingly poor writer (coughmecough) then you'll take offence. *whispers* Actually I do enjoy the rare cliché ridden fic, and am secretly a Malfoy fangirl, so don't flame me too much. 

**Not Another Order of the Phoenix!**

**_***_**

****

**_Harry and Draco writhed passionately on the dungeon floor, snogging desperately._**

****

"WHAT THE _HELL_?!"

The boy called Harry Potter jumped away from the computer screen with a start, nearly fainting at the sight of those bolded words. 

"WHAT THE _HELL_?!" he repeated once more, looking in utmost revulsion at the silent monitor. 

"Is there a problem?" asked a harassed-looking clerk, coming up behind him, "Is your computer playing up?"

Harry Potter hastily hit the 'back' button.

"No, no, everything's fine," said Harry, compressing a shudder, "How much…er…how much '_internet usage'_ do I have left?"

"One minute," said the clerk shortly, looking at the clock, "This is your first time in an Internet Café, isn't it?"

_And last_, thought Harry to himself, but then aloud, "Oh, yes…" 

It had all started when Dudley had gotten the Internet at Privet Drive. His fat cousin would spend hours upon end now, locked in his room and quite oblivious to the outside world. At first, Harry had quite liked the peacefulness. His Uncle off at work, his Aunt off shopping…it seemed too good to be true. But then he began to wonder what exactly Dudley was _doing_ in there. 

Harry had never used the Internet before. That was considered a special privilege at elementary school, and Harry was always in too much trouble with Dudley and gang to even think about special privileges. 

He knew he should be doing some holiday reading for preparation of his fifth year at Hogwarts, but all he could think about now was Dudley and the fascinating Internet. He could owl Hermione about it…but it seemed rather stupid really…it was probably just a phase he was going through from being around Muggles too much…

_Yes…a phase_, thought Harry wryly, _that's why I'm sitting in a Muggle café opposite Kings Cross Station, spending the hour before I leave for Hogwarts, staring at a radioactive screen. _

Feeling rather foolish, he had walked in, paid, sat down, noticed the 'search box', and without thinking, had typed in his own name- 'Harry Potter'. 

To his amazement, the screen suddenly filled up with a whole list of topics about 'Harry this' and 'Potter that'. Feeling slightly stunned, he moved the cursor and clicked on a result labelled, 'Harry Potter Fan fiction'. 

"Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix," he read out loud.

Feeling intrigued, he started silently reading the summary;

**_Harry is fifteen and has to fight Lord Voldeymort *again*! Will Hermone and Ginny *confess* their feelings for him? Ron dies 'cause I don't like him. Will Draco *confess* his feelings for them because I don't think he's at *all* bad, do u? Hehe, Dracos sexy, please please please read and review, 'cause if you don't, I won't write *any* more! Nyah nyah nyah!_**

Feeling slightly disturbed, Harry had looked fearfully over his shoulder, wondering whether he was in some kind of Death Eater trap. 

_Was this a prediction of the future?_ _How did they know Hermione and Ginny? And what was this horrible comment on Ron dying? _

He had hastily printed the whole thing off, fingering his wand the whole time. Stuffing the papers into his jumper, he had then hit the 'back' button to check what else was on this site. He had found a total of four other 'Order of the Phoenix' stories, and one 'Order of the 'Pheonix''. Just to be on the safe side, he had printed them all off.  

Feeling more at ease from the absence of any lurking Death Eaters, he had organised his papers more neatly and decided to try a different story, one that sounded particularly good to him - 'Harry and the Lost Dragon'. 

Much to his shock, the first line was, '**_Harry and Draco writhed passionately on the dungeon floor…_**' 

The clerk had then talked to him, and he was now in his current situation once more. 

"Time's up," said the clerk, disconnecting Harry's computer, "Have a nice day."

Harry Potter walked slowly out of the small building and crossed the busy street back to Kings Cross station. He scooped all of his belongings out of the hired locker onto a trolley, and collected Hedwig from the porter. Pulling a sheet of paper from the bulge in his jersey, he started to read as he wheeled his trolley through the barrier and onto Platform Nine and Three Quarters. 

"Ouch!"

Harry looked up briefly and started to apologise automatically when he stopped. 

Standing in front of him was a gorgeous, curly-haired, sparkly-eyed girl. 

"Hi," she said cheekily, "I'm the American transfer student."

Harry Potter blinked at her and looked back down at his paper. 

"You must be Mary-Sue," said Harry frowning, "Man, this is weird, it says here that I'm supposed to be tripping over my feet right now—wah!"

Harry Potter got off the ground and brushed himself off.

"You pushed me!" he accused. 

"You weren't swooning over me," Mary-Sue pouted.

"Boys don't _swoon_," said Harry heatedly.

"_I_ don't think you're a _boy_ anymore…_Mr_ Harry Potter," murmured Mary-Sue, moving herself closer to Harry.

"Go away!" said Harry in alarm, but then giving a yell as he looked down at his body, "What the hell happened to me?!"

Mary-Sue dropped her silky voice and gave him a disgusted look.

"You idiot, you've obviously been working out and getting a tan over the holidays, not to mention a haircut."

"But…" stammered Harry, "But I haven't…this isn't my body…Holy…look at these muscles."

Mary-Sue obediently bent closer to have a look and suddenly nestled herself against Harry's chest. 

"Mmm…well I'm not compla—OUWH!"

Harry backed hastily away.

"YOU PUNCHED MY HEAD!" she roared.

"You were getting too close," said Harry defensively, "Besides, I'm only fifteen, I don't belong in this stupid body, how am I supposed to play Quidditch?"

"YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO THINK ABOUT QUIDDITCH!" Mary-Sue roared once more, and then calming down, "Will you just follow the usual storyline?"

Harry gave her a strange look.

"Are you telling me you _know_ about this?" he demanded, waving the sheet of paper in her face.

"Of course I do!" snapped Mary-Sue, "I wrote one of the damned things! I'm a pathetic young American author who has written herself into your fifth year, so live with it!"

Harry crossed his overly buff arms. 

"Well I don't like it," he declared, "And what have you done with Ron and Hermione?"

"I haven't done anything," she sulked back, "They're supposed to show up right when we're in the middle of a passionate snog…"

"Well we both know _that's_ not going to happen," said Harry hastily, inwardly shuddering, "I don't even _know_ you."

Mary-Sue shrugged, defeated. 

"Fine, but if you don't get with me you're going to get with Draco," she said casually.

Harry resisted the urge to throw up. 

"I'm not _gay_," he choked, "I haven't shown any _reason_ to be and I've even got feelings for this girl…_Cho_--"

"--Grow up, you big Homophobe," cut in Mary-Sue irritably, "You're meant to realise that all that hatred for the gorgeous Slytherin was just pent up lust!"

"I'm _not_ homophobic!" yelled Harry, "I'm just not _gay_! And Malfoy is _not _gorgeous; he's a pale, pointed face Slytherin with twitchy, ferret-like facial expressions! Get it right!"

"But I do have it right," said Mary-Sue smugly, "--in Fanon that is. You see, you're not the only one who's changed this year, everyone who attends Hogwarts now resembles flawless supermodels, and everyone is going to suddenly notice everyone else at the same time and use the Astronomy tower (a place mentioned only once or twice in the canon) as a steamy snogging area."

"Good God," said Harry faintly, "I think I've gone mad…"

Mary-Sue took this opportunity to seize Harry by the throat and pull his face down to hers.

"GERROFF!" spluttered Harry, shoving her away and off the platform.  

Harry ignored a faint screaming coming from the train tracks and made his way through the suddenly appearing crowd of students. 

"Ron! Hermione!" he called wildly, feeling slightly hysterical. 

"Hello, Harry," said a soft voice behind his ear. 

"Hermione?" asked Harry as he spun around, "Is that…?"

Harry knew he should have been prepared to see his 'changed' classmates, but when he saw Hermione his jaw dropped. 

"Do you like my hair?" she giggled, "I'm going to gel it every day now so it looks shiny and smooth!"

Harry blinked at her. 

Sure she was beautiful but… 

"You've been transformed into a Mary-Sue!" moaned Harry, "Quick, where's Ron?! WHERE?!"

Hermione sniffed at Harry's slight hysterica.  

"He was being _mean_ to me so I think I'll have to turn to someone _else_ for comfort…"

Harry backed away hastily. 

This wasn't their Hermione. And why was Ron being mean to her? Time to consult the fan fiction.

Harry rifled through his papers and frowned.

"Ron is usually portrayed as a jerk who abuses Hermione so she can turn to an older man," said a cheery voice beside him.

Harry looked at Mary-Sue warily. 

"What d'you mean, older man?"

Mary-Sue smiled at him sweetly. 

"Wait and see," she grinned, "And in case you were wondering, I can only die (if at all) at the end of this story, you see, most authors think that a Mary-Sue dying is the climax of the story, so it wasn't any use pushing me off the platform."

"Damn," said Harry wryly, but then noticing a red-haired figure standing on the far side of the station, "RON!"

Harry raced over to his best friend, who turned around and looked at him expressionlessly. 

"Hello, Harry," said Ron, "Percy's dead."

"WHAT?!" yelled Harry, screeching to a halt and nearly jumping out of his skin.

"Yes…" said Ron oddly, "I don't care what it takes, I'll get revenge."

"Percy always dies in your fifth year," whispered an annoyingly (now familiar) voice in his ear, "It makes Ron turn evil so we can pair him up with someone interesting like Pansy."

"What?!" repeated Harry faintly, staring at Mary-Sue in horror, "Percy's _dead_ because you want Ron to go out with _Pansy_?!" 

"You're twisting my words," said Mary-Sue loftily, "Now, Ron usually doesn't come into the story much, fanon has corrupted him too much and his character is too hard to write. Sometimes he makes an appearance to become jealous of Hermione's lover, but of course she's _never_ the one who has a crush on him first, even though it hinted like mad in your fourth year."

Harry felt as though his world was being ripped to shreds. 

"But…but he's my best friend…" Harry said raggedly, "I can't bear to see him like this…won't he ever go back to normal?"

Mary-Sue sighed. 

"Oh yes, but only when the next book in the _canon_ comes out, which won't be until mid 2003 I'm afraid."

"WHAT?!" shrieked Harry, "But it's 1995 right now!"

"Mixed timelines," said Mary-Sue crossly, "Now hurry up, we have to board the train!"

Harry reluctantly followed her; the only thing keeping him sane was the fact that one day everything would be back to normal. He pushed his way through the crowd of people, backing hastily away from a gothic-looking Ginny ("She just realised that she was in love with Tom Riddle all along.") and a passionately snogging Dean and Seamus ("They can't be best friends without being lovers, you know!"). 

Feeling slightly dizzy at all the free lovemaking going on around him, Harry stumbled into an empty-looking compartment and collapsed weakly. But only when he felt a warm breath of air blowing onto the back of his neck did he realise that the train wasn't the only thing moving beneath him. 

_Good God_, he thought wearily, _only this would happen in this twisted fanon universe. _

He struggled to get off the warm mass when he felt a hand brush against his cheek.

"Mary-Sue," Harry guessed, wrenching free from his position but then freezing when he saw who it really was.

"My, my, Potter…" drawled Draco Malfoy, "You'd think that you'd have remembered my name after _four years_ of such…_hatred_."

Harry began to panic; he could have sworn that Malfoy has just _purred_ the word '_hatred_'. 

"I…er…I didn't know it was you," mumbled Harry, glancing quickly at the closed door and recoiling in horror. 

_Since when did they put heavy-duty padlocks on compartment doors?! _

Harry fumbled in his robes for his wand when a smirking Slytherin caught his attention by twirling through the air a familiar looking—

"Give me my wand!" said Harry angrily, "How did you get it?!"

"You're the one who chose to fall on me," said Draco, stretching out on the long seat, "It's not my fault the inside of your robes got tangled up with my hands…"

A wave of revulsion swept through Harry, _MALFOY HAD BEEN INSIDE HIS ROBES?! UGH!_

Draco Malfoy smirked once more at Harry's facial expression.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," Malfoy continued, "I feel sort of special being the only one who knows that the famous Harry Potter wears silky boxer shorts…"

"STOP THE TRAIN!" roared Harry, running over and pounding on the door, "I WANT TO GET OFF!" 

"They can't hear you," said a silky voice right next to his ear, "And if you're so eager to get off, _I know a way you can without even leaving this compartment…_"

Harry emitted a very girly-sounding scream and dived headfirst through the tinted window in the door. Ignoring the stabbing pain of broken glass wedged into his body, he half sprinted, half staggered away into the next conveniently empty compartment and locked the door. 

"I think I'm going to be sick," he moaned, getting thrown onto the opposite seat when the train suddenly stopped, "What now…?"

The locked door magically opened and Mary-Sue stood in the doorway, surveying him with interest.

"Harry? Why are you by yourself? Where's Draco? What have you been doing? What are you doing now?" she asked enthusiastically.

"Pondering your afterlife, Mary-Sue," Harry growled shortly, his head whirling.  

"Tell me all the gossip," she coaxed, ignoring Harry's comment, "Are you official yet?"

Harry resisted the urge to place his overly buff hands around Mary-Sue's neck and just start squeezing…

"_If you're talking about me and Malfoy_," gritted Harry through his teeth, "_I think I might smash _you_ through a glass window, and preferably one leading _outside_ the train." _

"Touchy, touchy," replied Mary-Sue cheerily, "Well, we're there, and before you ask, the train ride seems to take no time at all because you're not in the process of snogging someone. And also, Hagrid is non-existent."

"Why?!" demanded Harry, pulling out the bundle of papers from mid-air and glaring at them, "Hagrid's one of my best friends!"

"Hagrid has no fan girls," said Mary-Sue sweetly, "Well, not that I know of anyway, and he's always forgotten in fan fiction, so why bother?"

"You stupid bitch!" yelled Harry, losing his temper, "Don't you _dare_ make fun of Hagrid! Can't you see he's one of the most unique and compassionate characters in my life?! Who _cares_ if he hasn't got bloody _fan girls_, he's great and I know it!" 

"Yes…" said Mary-Sue, sounding bored, "Oh yes, Abracadabra, we're in the Great Hall and we've conveniently missed the Sorting to save the author the trouble of making up a new Sorting Hat song."

"What?!" said Harry bewildered, "But that's impossible!"

"I'm sure no one wants to read about the boring coach ride up here, and getting settled in etc. What everyone wants is a good snogging session, preferably with pure fanon pairings."

"Well we're in the Great Hall!" snapped Harry, waving his arms at everyone now seated around him, "Like anyone will start kissing in public!"

"Hmm…" said Mary-Sue innocently, motioning to the girl opposite them, "Isn't Hermione looking rather…odd?"

Harry looked across the table at his 'pal' and swallowed. 

"Why…why is she looking like that? _Who_ is she looking at?" Harry said in horror, flinching at the look of pure lust and sexuality radiating from her face, "She's not…not looking at the Staff table is she?!"

Mary-Sue waggled her perfect eyebrows and Harry felt as though he was going to either faint or throw up. 

"Not Snape…" he said in a very small voice, "Oh, God, _no_…" 

Mary-Sue winked at him and Harry resisted the urge to run screaming up and down the aisle as his infamous Potions Master cast an appraised look at the Gryffindor table.

"He's realising that Miss Granger has really blossomed over the summer," whispered Mary-Sue to a green-looking Harry, "And Hermione…well…she's feeling kind of lonely…"

Harry felt a sudden burst of anger and grabbed Hermione by the wrists. 

"Hermione!" he ordered, "Snap out of it! _It's not real_!"

Hermione smiled dreamily at him and turned her attention back to a leering Potions Master. 

"I have to get out of here!" said Harry wildly, "Surely _everyone_ can't be affected, maybe Sirius! Professor Lupin!"

Mary-Sue rolled her eyes. 

"Oh, if you want them, they're shagging in the Shrieking Shack—"

"WHAT?!" roared Harry, the whole hall looking at him curiously, "WHAT D'YOU MEAN, SHAG—"

"Er hem," said Mary-Sue apologetically, "I forgot to say, whenever you say something to do with sex or what-not, everyone automatically tunes in."

"Well, what do you mean, shagging?!" hissed Harry, glaring at everyone and trying to ignore a sadistic-looking Ron stabbing his mashed potato, "Why do _they_ have to be gay together now?! Just because they're old school friends doesn't mean--" 

Mary-Sue rolled her beautiful eyes. 

"You really don't know anything," she complained, "It's the lack of female characters in the canon of course! Now, we usually have a beautiful female DADA teacher this term but Hermione has dibs on Snape so we'll just have to do without._"_

"OK, well at least there's not an adult Mary-Sue wandering around then," muttered Harry under his breath, "So you're saying everyone I know is affected by Fanon now? Even Dumbledore himself?!"

Mary-Sue shrugged.

"Well…yes, you see, right now he's supposed to be surprisingly lenient on teacher/student relationships, and has been known to play matchmaker when he's not overdoing it on comments about sweets."

"Well if Dumbledore's gone, then we're all screwed," said Harry flatly.

"Just play along for a while," coaxed Mary-Sue, winking at everyone who turned around when Harry had just said 'screwed'. 

Harry pulled a face. 

"Why should I?" he muttered.

"Don't be grumpy, Harry!" scolded Mary-Sue, "You see, if these fan fictions start to get boring, you'll lose your popularity, meaning it won't be as hyped up and a certain Ms Rowling won't get enough publicity to bring out your _proper_ fifth year. It's the circle of fictional life, duh!"

Harry looked at her suspiciously; it seemed rather over-dramatised to him.

"Fine," he said reluctantly, "What do I do?"

Mary-Sue's brilliant eyes sparkled.

"Now you're talking…"

Harry blinked and found himself in the Headmaster's office. Harry braced himself for the worst and looked around at the people seated in a circle. 

At the head was Dumbledore, then Sirius, Remus, (Harry squirmed when he looked at them) Snape, Hermione, (Harry nearly _retched_ when he looked at them) an expressionless Ron, (Harry's heart went out to him) Draco Malfoy, (Harry's wand wanted very much to go out at him) and finally of course, a perfect Mary-Sue.

"I have gathered you all here because I just wanted to aimlessly announce that you are part of a team called the Order of the Phoenix," began Dumbledore, "Lemon drop, anyone?"

When everyone politely refused, the Headmaster continued.

Harry was starting to feel grudgingly excited; _well this was more like it._

"You each have your talents. Sirius, you have your dashing good looks, playboy attitude, eyes-that-are-dark-in-the-canon-but-brilliant-blue-right-now…oh, yes and your Animagus form. Remus, you have your sensitive-but-passionate-when-it-come-to-sex nature, your overwhelmingly good body that only responds to men, and your tatty robes that always seem to be ripped in a way so they reveal a large portion of your muscular hairy chest--"

Harry started to whimper softly, _please don't do Snape next…please…_  

"—Severus has his deep dark sex appeal—" Harry winced at Hermione's vigorous nodding, "—his sinewy, hard muscle tissue (hidden beneath the thin black robes which he wears nothing under), his silky voice oozing with that same sex appeal, and…oh yes, his skill in potions."

Harry gazed at the Headmaster in disbelief; it was like some kind of Muggle record player was being amplified through his mouth, simply reading one of those damned fan fictions. Now it was time for the Headmaster to offer someone a—

"Tongue toffee, anyone?"

Harry buried his face in his hands, suspecting it was going to be a long first day. 

"Hermione has had a make over of course, that's why she's here—"

"I think we've all noticed that…" leered Snape, Hermione making a throaty noise as the Potions Master's hands moved out of sight.

"Ron is here because we need someone to get the word out to Volde that we're planning to foil his plans…"

"RON WOULD NEVER BETRAY US!" shouted Harry angrily, but sitting down shaking when Mary-Sue frowned at him.

"Draco is here, and we must all call him Draco because he's actually not mean and nasty, just abused by his father and has been harbouring special powers like Harry and Mary-Sue in secret. Even though he's a not a major character in the canon, nearly everyone loves him in the fanon."

"I hate him," muttered Harry sulkily, "He's still the annoying git who makes cruel comments about muggle-borns to me, no matter _what_ the overrated fan girls say."

"Mary-Sue is here," continued Dumbledore, ignoring Harry's comment, "Because she's Mary-Sue and the world revolves around her, and Harry's here because yadda yadda, he's supposedly Gryffindor's heir or Voldemort's grandson or something."

_This is so stupid_, scathed Harry to himself, _bloody Star Wars plots_.

"And of course, Ginny isn't here because she killed herself ten minutes ago," said Dumbledore cheerily, "Whizzing fizzer, anyone?"

"WHAT?!" said Harry hollowly, "Oh, Ron I'm so sorry…"

"It was the diary, Harry," said Ron dramatically, "It all started with Tom Riddle, I'll get him, I'll make him pay, even if it means killing everyone here in the bargain!"

Harry let out a hysterically nervous laugh. 

"What happens in the end?" he asked Mary-Sue faintly.

Mary-Sue ignored him and stood up.

"I would just like to announce," she said proudly, as if she had defeated a dozen Death Eaters single-handedly, "that I am going to go out with Ron Weasley and save his soul from Lord Voldemort."

Everyone in the room applauded politely except for Harry who sent her a murderous glare. 

"If you hurt him…" he warned.

"This meeting is adjourned!" announced Dumbledore, "Please feel free to go back to your private quarters with your partner and shag like rabbits until Lord Voldemort makes a frontal attack on the school. Chocolate frog, anyone?"

Harry sighed and left the room with the others. He was soon walking along the magically deserted corridor, wishing the end of all this nonsense would hurry up and come along.

A sudden noise behind him made him turn and stop. Harry shrugged and was about to keep walking when a cupboard door he had never seen before popped into view. He opened it curiously, only realising when he was shoved inside that it was perfectly set up for two people…

_Bloody fan fiction clichés! _Harry thought furiously, struggling to get out of a grip of steel and keep the cupboard door open at the same time.

To Harry's dismay, the door slammed shut and darkness reigned in the warming cupboard. Harry wouldn't have minded spending the rest of his newly twisted year in this cupboard if it wasn't for the fact that the someone who had shoved him in here, who still had the grip on his arm, and who was now blowing lightly on his neck, was stuck in here with him. 

"Malfoy," stated Harry in a weary voice, "I'm not interested."

There was a slight pause and then a surprised drawl of, "How did you know it was me?"  

"Only one person in this horribly wrong world would shove me in a broom closet alongside of them," said Harry shudderingly, "Fortunately I was warned about our supposed 'developing relation—SHYAH!"

"Like that, Potter?"

"KEEP YOUR DIRTY, FILTHY HANDS TO YOURSELF, MALFOY!"

"You have a cute face when you're mad."

"IT'S DARK, YOU SILLY SOD! Why are you acting like this?! Why can't you just go back to normal and try to _hex_ the pants off me instead of trying to…ugh…can't believe I just said that."

"Don't tell me you don't like my new muscular and tanned body," said Malfoy in a sultry voice, "I've also got this sexy new snake tattoo on my chest…"

It was here that the grip on Harry's arm loosened and a new grip on Harry's waist began forming. Feeling rather alarmed, Harry tried to pry off the insistent hands with his own, only to find those same insistent hands _over_ his own and pulling them towards _it's_ insistent _waist_.     

"I don't like tattoos," said Harry quickly, "They're ugly and you have to keep them forever—"

"It's a fake then," murmured Malfoy, moving closer and bridging any gap between them.

"How nice," said Harry sarcastically, "You got a tattoo to match your personality. Touch me further and I'll kill you."

Malfoy ignored that and started again.

"Mmm…" he said, rubbing against Harry's thigh, "You couldn't possibly kill me now, Potter, I'm already in heaven."

"That's strange," said Harry dryly, "Because in my dream, you go the other way."

"Stop being a bitch, Potter," snapped Malfoy, and abandoned Harry's hands to pull the spluttering boy's lips to his.

Harry Potter immediately froze in horror and fumbled with his now-free hands, trying to get them out of Malfoy's tangled robes. 

"MWAH HAR!" Harry spluttered, as he seized his prized wand from Malfoy's belt, "GERROFF OR I'LL HEX YOU!"

Getting no response, Harry furiously pointed his wand at the face shoved against his and was about to stun him when he was hit with broad daylight. 

"Sorry!" giggled the perfect voice of Mary-Sue, "I didn't know it was taken, come on, Ron!"

And with that, Harry felt the darkness start to close in on him once more. 

"NOOOOO!!" he screamed, and, pulling himself from Malfoy's embrace, he burst through the nearly closed door and fled down the corridor, grabbing Ron from Mary-Sue as he went. 

"SCREW YOU, MALFOY, MARY-SUE!" roared Harry, tugging Ron up the stairs to the Gryffindor portrait hole, "Come _on,_ Ron!"

After a lot of panting and pulling, Harry flung himself onto his familiar, four-poster bed; letting go of Ron and locking the dormitory door after them. Harry soon caught his breath and surveyed his best friend with slight sadness. 

"Ron," he began, "I really am sorry about…about Percy and Ginny, and just so you know, not everyone is screwed over this year, I'm still normal and nothing has changed between us, OK?"

Ron looked at the boy who had just delivered this rather sentimental speech and gave him a small smile. 

"Oh, Harry," he sighed, "I'm sorry, but I'm not gay."

Harry exploded.

"WHAT?!" he shouted disbelievingly, "NEITHER AM I! WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP ON ASSUMING I'M TALKING ABOUT SEX OR SOMETHING?! DOES EVERYTHING I SAY HAVE TO BE TAKEN THAT WAY?! CAN'T WE JUST BE BEST FRIENDS WITHOUT ANYONE ASSUMING—"

"If you want to tell me about Hermione," Ron said expressionlessly, "You can, because I'm not jealous at all even though I nearly had a spack over Krum."

"Hermione?!" replied Harry bitterly, "Of course not! I _know_ that you like her—"

"She doesn't like me," said Ron gloomily.

"SHE DOES!" roared Harry angrily, "WELL SHE _SHOULD_ BECAUSE YOU BLOODY WELL DESERVE IT, RON, IT WAS _YOU _THAT STOOD UP FOR HER_, NOT FUCKING SNAPE!_"__

"Harry," said Ron slightly gratified, "You shouldn't swear, you're the pure heir of Gryffindor."

"Fuckety fuck fuck fuck," snapped Harry defiantly, "I am not Gryffindor's heir!"

"But your special wandless powers…"

"I don't have any!"

"Nearly every girl (and boy) in Hogwarts wants to sleep with you…"

"What?! No they don't! What does that have to do with anything?!"

"Your muscles…"

"They're fake."

"Your deep baritone voice…"

"It's fake!"

"Your spotlight that seems to follow you around and glow even brighter when you enter a room…"

"RON!" Harry yelled, exasperated, "IT'S ALL FAKE! EVERYTHING! Everyone's makeovers, feelings, crappy, overdone plotlines, stupid clichés, annoying ANNOYING Mary-Sue, everything _isn't _real this year!"

"What about Pansy?"

"WHAT?!" roared Harry.

"I mean, she keeps looking at me this year, are you saying that's fake too?"

"Oh, for God's sake, Ron," moaned Harry, "Please don't fall into that horrible cliché…"

"It's not much of a cliché," reasoned Ron, "I mean, it's definitely weird enough not to be used commonly."

"Fine," muttered Harry, "It's not clichéd, but it's still not bloody likely."

"Yes," said Ron surprisingly, "And that's why it's interesting to read about."

Harry shook his head at his best friend.

"But don't you think it's even remotely disgusting?" he asked.

Ron considered.

"Of course I do. But I suppose if it was written well, with me and her thrown in an unlikely situation but still act in character, then it would radiate some kind of appeal I suppose."

"To who?" demanded Harry, "Who would read that crap?"

"Anyone," shrugged Ron, "You don't know how much a great writer can get away with. Heirs and prophesies, magical powers, love potions, squicky pairings like myself and Pansy; Snape and Hermione, you and Malfoy, it's endless. Add in a touch of humour and you've got fics which make fandom history."

Harry looked at him doubtfully.

"Since when did you get so wise?"

Ron smiled slightly.

"Since the author felt a deep need to proclaim her loyalty to her favourite Weasley, to scream that she's sick of him being a morbid jerk or jealous wannabe in the fanfiction world, that no matter how much she swoons over Malfoy or Snape or Lucius, her heart will always remain loyal to Ronald Weasley…to him and his most credible and likeable personality."

"I think the author's off her nut," replied Harry, "She's got you referring to yourself in third person."

Ron grinned.

"They're all a little mad," he replied, "How else could you explain the whacked storylines and out-of-character-ness of most of the fiction (including this one) out there?"

"You sound as though you enjoy it," said Harry, looking slightly betrayed.

"It's interesting," said Ron neutrally, "Some is pretty horrible, some is amazingly brilliant. Yeah, it rips apart your view of the canon, our normal world, but it opens up so many doors and widens your mind…sometimes it's worth the corruption."

Harry looked at his friend for a long time and pulled a sheaf of papers from inside his jersey.

"These stories are shit," Harry said flatly, rustling the papers, "You die in nearly all of them, or turn evil, or something stupid like that."

"I know," said Ron calmly, taking up the papers and throwing them out the window, "But the thing you've got to remember, Harry, is that no matter how badly the plotlines are written, no matter how big or common the clichés are, no matter how stupid, pathetic, or out-of-character we're portrayed, we'll always have our original, sound, well-written canon to turn back to." 

Harry felt a feeling of warm reassurance swell inside him at Ron's words. 

"Thanks, Ron," he said sincerely, "That's the sanest if not most disturbing thing I've heard all day, I'm looking forward to our _proper_ fifth year together."

"Me too," grinned Ron, "But there's no stopping us having a little fun on the way."

Harry sent him an inquisitive look. 

"You mean…?" he said slowly.

"Yeah," shrugged Ron, "Go snog that bastard, Harry, you'll be hexing him some other time, finding out you're related to him after that, then catching him with me next…just remember to hold on to our memories and our real world, then go full out and surf the online fandom."

Harry laughed, his first real laugh since his fourth year. 

"You really are mad," Harry said affectionately.

"Yeah," Ron agreed, poking him playfully with his wand, "Let's go kill Voldemort now?"

"All right," Harry grinned back, "And if Mary-Sue gets in the way…it's not my fault."

"Agreed," Ron replied, and both defied the fact that they couldn't apparate in Hogwarts grounds, that they had never learned to apparate at all, and weren't even of age to apparate, and apparated down the entrance hall, drawing their wands together as they faced Lord Voldemort.

"For pointless deaths!" yelled Harry, pointing his wand at the towering wizard.

"For badly written fanfics!" yelled Ron, pointing his wand alongside of Harry.

"For self-inserted Mary-Sues!"

"For over-used plotlines!"

"For all copied fiction!"

"For out-of-character-ness!"

"For Ron!"

"For Harry!"

"For us!" they yelled simultaneously, a brilliant beam of light shooting from their wands and exploding into a shrieking Lord Voldemort.

The fearful wizard sank to the ground in a vicious squeak of rage, turning into a pile of powdered cheese.

"Powdered cheese?" commented Harry shakily, glancing at Ron.

"The author must be hungry," replied Ron, lowering his wand and grinning at his best friend. 

Harry nodded slowly, stifling a laugh as Sirius, Lupin, Snape, Hermione, Draco and Mary-Sue shot past him, stomping on the powder and casting modest looks at Dumbledore, who was just behind them. 

"Well done, Order of the Phoenix," congratulated Dumbledore, nodding in approval at a brass band that had appeared from nowhere.

Harry snorted.

"We will now celebrate with a Yule Ball," he continued, "Everyone is invited, including Sirius and Remus, and anyone may go with anyone. Humming humbug, anyone?"

Harry rolled his eyes at Ron and Ron winked in return. 

"I thought Yule Balls were only held in conjunction with the TriWizard Tournament?" Harry asked Ron.

"Oh, come on, Harry," laughed Ron, "There's one written in your fifth year every time, despite it all. I've gone with about thirty different people by now, and so've you."

"Yeah?" grinned Harry, "And…er…once with Cho?"

"Six times," declared Ron, snorting at Harry's surprised expression, "Come on, let's go get ready."

"Is it tonight?" exclaimed Harry, "But…isn't it still our first day here?"

"Nah," replied Ron, "The story's pretty much over so it's our last day here; dodgy time lapses," explained Ron further, at Harry's mystified look.

Harry was given no more time to ponder this as Ron pulled him up the stairs to the Gryffindor tower, and pretty soon, Harry found himself staring at his reflected image in the mirror.

"Ron?" asked Harry, wondering at the way his hair seemed to incredibly stay in place, "Why am I wearing green robes? I feel so…_slytherin_." 

"The same reason I'm wearing deep blue robes," replied Ron, motioning him back down the stairs, "It matches our eyes."

Harry guffawed at Ron's comment and felt in a surprisingly light mood all of a sudden. 

_It was nearly all over. Well, this twisted fic, anyway. It hadn't been _too_ bad, he supposed. Thinking back, it seemed quite funny now…and he would always have his two best friends in the canon, no matter how insane things turned in the future._

Pondering this thought, Harry smiled at a leaving Ron, who had an adoring Pansy attached to his elbow. The bespectacled boy wizard put his hands in his pockets and stood silently at the entrance of the Great Hall, watching the couples bemusedly. 

"Got a date, Potter?" 

'Potter' turned, a slight smile playing on his lips, as Ron's voice echoed in his thoughts. 

"--hold on to our memories and our real world, then go full out and surf the online fandom."

"Desperate and dateless," replied Harry regretfully, looking at his archrival inquiringly.

"Don't suppose you want to dance?" offered Draco, his pupils dilating at Harry's lack of hostility.

"Why not?" Harry shrugged, and allowed the satisfied Slytherin to lead him out on to the dance floor. 

The unlikely couple swayed on the dance floor, Harry not even protesting as Draco moved closer. 

"You look…_nice_," said Harry appraisingly, trying to ignore a gawking Mary-Sue dancing with George Weasley.

"_You_ look bloody gorgeous," replied Draco throatily, and covered Harry's quirking mouth with his own.

***


End file.
